Ego-Maniacs With inferiority complexes
When I first got sober, I remember hearing old-timers (those with long-term sobriety) say that addicts suffer from a peculiar affliction: we are ego-maniacs with an inferiority complex. Something about that phrase resonated with me.
As an addict, I was the center of my world, unable to see beyond the end of my own nose. In my daily life, this meant I couldn't see how my choices impacted others. I was driven by my needs, my desires, my pain.
And yet, the undercurrents of shame and inferiority ran deep within me. I was uncomfortable in my own skin, full of self-loathing and feelings of inadequacy. Fear of rejection gripped me. And I attempted to secure love and belonging through a wide array of poor choices.
Now that I’ve been sober for twenty-nine years and following Jesus for twenty years, I see that this malady is not unique to addicts and alcoholics. Pride and insecurity are human conditions that affect all of us in varying degrees. While we may find that one of these is more characteristic of us, both pride and insecurity are the straws that stir the drink in our lives.
Personally, I am more likely to be paralyzed by insecurity than puffed up with pride. Although I write publicly, I struggle with promoting my work. I am afraid to put myself out there, afraid that others will think I am self-promoting, and afraid that I am delusional and only think that I have something worth sharing. So I stay in the shadows. I may share a new article on social media the day it's released. But after that, I retreat into the shadows–afraid of how others might perceive me or what I am doing.
However, I am far from immune to pride’s siren song. It’s not unusual for arrogant thoughts to go through my mind. “Why do they get all the opportunities and not me?” Or, “Why is she so popular as a Bible teacher or writer, when her stuff is so fluffy?” Deep at the root of these thoughts is pride, the belief that I am better than someone else. Deeper still is the belief that God has not been kind to me and that I should have something I don’t, whether it is recognition, opportunities, or honor.
We all want to be seen, known, and loved. But we often fear that if anyone truly knew us, they would reject us. So we perform an array of existential gymnastics to avoid being rejected. Some of us strive to be more of what we think others find acceptable. Others of us cover over our perceived flaws, never allowing anyone to truly know us. Some of us reject others before they can reject us, convincing ourselves that we are better than them and that we don’t need anyone. While things like trauma or abuse can be contributors to our deep-seated fears, much of it is also rooted in pride and insecurity.
Any attempt to separate pride and insecurity is futile, like splitting hairs. They are intricately interconnected. Insecurity is the fear that we are not enough, not worthy, or will be exposed. And pride is a strategy to protect the self. To hide weakness. To feel significant. To avoid shame. It becomes a shield against the fear of being rejected or humiliated. Both keep us on a spiritual seesaw, our self-perception falling and rising according to the fickle feelings of self and others.
Sometimes, pride appears as arrogance, characterized by boasting, self-righteousness, or a refusal to acknowledge one's faults. We stack our time, talents, and treasures on the other end of the seesaw. These attributes, often rooted in a fear of being unworthy or unlovable, give rise to all manner of attempts to prove one’s worth.
We grasp at anything and everything that weighs the seesaw in our favor—accolades and achievement, power and position, the success of our kids, our beauty, our wits—whatever will lift us higher and higher off the ground until we rise above the dust of the earth. With our heads in the sky and our feet dangling beneath us, we can sit comfortably secure in our standing. But we forget the warning that pride comes before destruction, and an arrogant spirit before a fall (Proverbs 16:18, CSB).
However, the security we built our worth on is an illusion. It’s chasing after the wind (Eccl. 1:12-18, 2:1-11). There is nothing but air between us and the ground. There is nothing solid beneath us, nothing holding us up. We age, and our beauty fades. We get fired from our lucrative role. Our kids' lives don’t turn out the way we’d hoped or imagined. And as each self-determined measurement of worth is removed, we sink closer to the ground.
Other times, pride appears as insecurity. We are laid low in the dirt of insecurity, self-loathing, and shame, and we can’t even get our seesaw off the ground. We avoid vulnerability, over-apologize, and are driven by perfectionism and self-protection. Sometimes, this is masked as humility.
We are unable to accept compliments. We believe we have nothing to contribute to God or others. We speak of ourselves in demeaning and derogatory ways. We are hyper-focused on our weaknesses and failings. We are too much: too loud, too opinionated, too sensitive. Or we are not enough: not smart enough, pretty enough, strong enough. Each perceived weakness and failure keeps us grounded in the dust.
I definitely can fall into this category. However, this, too, remains centered on the self. The core question is, “What will people think of me?” We see nothing of value in ourselves, forgetting that a God of immeasurable beauty and goodness created us in his image, called us good, and placed us in this world as his co-creators of beauty and goodness.
Both are rooted in shame. One puffs up. One shrinks back. Both are self-focused.
While social media has significantly contributed to our obsession with ourselves, this shame-based cycle is not just a modern problem. It’s a tale as old as time, going all the way back to the Garden of Eden. The serpent tempted Adam and Eve with something they weren’t—being like God. And something they didn’t have—knowledge of good and evil. He simply held a mirror up to them to reveal their lack, how they fell short of some standard.
However, his temptations were like the game of two truths and a lie. A game where each person shares three statements about themselves—two that are true and one that is false. The other players try to guess which statement is the lie. Adam and Eve were already like God. And they already had the knowledge of good. The only thing they lacked was the knowledge of evil. Somehow, the serpent convinced them that who they were and what God had entrusted to them was not enough. So they sought to become more of who they thought they should be, rather than being who God made them.
Ever since then, we have been trying to balance our spiritual seesaw through our own efforts—compensating for our failures, concealing our weaknesses, and protecting against our vulnerabilities. We know our nakedness, and we utilize everything available to us—whether self-promotion or self-protection—to cover over our shame.
This pattern of pride and insecurity runs throughout Scripture.
Scripture reveals how insecurity paralyzes those whom God has chosen. Moses felt inadequate in his speech and questioned God's plan to use him (Exodus 3-4). Gideon, coming from the weakest tribe, felt weak and insignificant and questioned God's decision to use him (Judges 6). Jeremiah worried he was too young and didn't know how to speak (Jeremiah 1). And Timothy needed Paul's frequent encouragement not to be fearful or timid because of his age (1 Timothy 4:12, 2 Timothy 1:7).
Pride is equally an issue for God’s people. It blinds us to our frailties and utter dependency on God, convincing us that we are self-made and self-sufficient. Hezekiah became proud and flaunted his wealth to Babylon (2 Kings 20:12-21, 2 Chronicles 32:25). King Uzziah grew proud after he became powerful and overstepped God's boundaries, performing duties reserved for priests alone (2 Chronicles 26). The self-righteous Pharisee thanked God he was not like the repentant tax-collector praying alongside him (Luke 18:9-14). And Peter confidently declared he would never deny Jesus, yet denied him three times (Matthew 26:33-75).
The same spiritual maladies that plagued God’s people in the past continue to affect us today.
Whether our cries are those of insecurity, “Who am I?” or arrogance, “Who are you?” Whether our lives are marked by self-sufficiency or self-loathing, insecurity or inflated ego, “low self-esteem and pride are horrible nuisances to our own future and to everyone around us.”¹
Taking The Right Medicine Out of the Medicine Cabinet
For God's people then and now, the antidote is the same. The question, then, is: how do we find freedom from this exhausting cycle?
We may find a starting point in John Calvin’s book, Institutes of the Christian Religion. Calvin wrote, “Nearly all the wisdom we possess, that is to say, true and sound wisdom, consists of two parts: the knowledge of God and of ourselves.” This dual knowledge, Calvin argued, forms the foundation of true wisdom.
I can know that God is merciful and forgiving, but if I do not know that I am sinful, that will be of little value to me. I can understand that God created me in his image, but if I do not understand that gives me inherent worth, it, too, is of little value. Conversely, I can be aware of my unique gifts and talents, but if I do not know I am also deeply flawed, I can become incorrigible.
Knowledge of God and knowledge of oneself not only lead to true and sound wisdom, but they can also help us get off the spiritual seesaw of insecurity and pride.
This balance between humility and dignity is captured beautifully in the Hasidic saying:
“A person should have two pockets. In one pocket, the note ‘For me the world was created’ and in the other pocket, ‘I am but dust and ashes.’”²
Jewish rabbi Abraham Heschel echoes the duality of mankind as “mysterious grandeur and pompous dust.”³
Living in this tension requires spiritual discernment, knowing which truth we need to embrace in any given moment. Like a doctor who must accurately diagnose the condition before prescribing the cure, we must learn to identify whether our spiritual seesaw is tipped toward pride or insecurity. I don't take an antacid when I have a headache. I take an aspirin. I don’t treat a broken arm with a band-aid. I get a cast. The same is true of my spiritual condition.
I have to take the right medicine out of the medicine cabinet.
When we are puffed up in pride, we do not need to drink in the elixir of our immeasurable worth. We need to swallow the bitter pill that we are nothing and have nothing apart from God’s lavish grace (Ephesians 2:8-9). We need to remember that our righteousness is but filthy rags (Isaiah 64:6) and even our best deeds often have mixed motives. We need to remember the frailty and finitude of all created things, including ourselves. And we need to remember that our state was so hopeless that Christ had to die in order to cleanse us and make us right with God.
We are but dust and ashes.
When we are laid low in self-loathing, we do not need to swallow the pill of our lowliness. Instead, we need to drink deeply of God’s love for and delight in us as his beloved children (1 John 3:1-2). We need to hold firmly to the truth that we are his marvelous workmanship, created for a purpose (Psalm 139). We need to be reminded that nothing—not shame, sin, suffering—can separate us from God’s love for us in Christ (Romans 8:31-39). And we need to remember that God loved us so much that Christ was willing to die to heal us, make us whole, and bring us home.
It was for us the world was created.
One humbles us; the other bolsters us. One brings us low; the other lifts us up. One produces humility, the other dignity. And we need both of these truths to flourish, just like we need air and water.
Humble Confidence
The apostle Paul gives us this example in 1 Corinthians 15:9-10:
“For I am the least of all the apostles. In fact, I’m not even worthy to be called an apostle after the way I persecuted God’s church.
But whatever I am now, it is all because God poured out his special favor on me—and not without results. For I have worked harder than any of the other apostles; yet it was not I but God who was working through me by his grace.”
In the same passage, Paul acknowledges both his insufficiency and the fruit of his labor. At other times, he calls himself chief of sinners (1 Timothy 1:12-17) and calls people to follow him as he follows Christ (1 Corinthians 11:1).
The result of being rooted in these seemingly opposed truths is that you become a person of humble confidence—not puffed up with pride nor laid low in self-loathing. You know both your inherent worth and inherent sinfulness. And from that wisdom, you are better able to live and love God and neighbor. You can use the gifts God has entrusted to you, understanding that they aren’t even about you. He gave them to you, and he will produce the fruit. Criticism won’t crush you, and compliments won’t corrupt you.
This humble confidence is rooted in what Calvin called the knowledge of God and knowledge of self. This frees you to take risks, knowing that failure doesn't define you. It allows you to receive correction without defensiveness and offer correction without superiority. You can celebrate others' successes without feeling diminished and acknowledge your own gifts without feeling guilty.
Most importantly, because you are no longer stuck on the spiritual seesaw–looking down on others from a place of pride, nor looking up to them from a place of insecurity—you are better able to love others well, remembering they too are dust of the earth for whom the world was made.
Questions for Reflection
Engage the Scripture
Read 1 Corinthians 15:9-10. How does Paul demonstrate both humility and confidence in this passage? What specific phrases show each quality?
Read Jeremiah 9:23-24. What reasons does Jeremiah list out for human boasting? What reasons does he list for boasting in the Lord? How would boasting about these things impact your tendencies toward pride or insecurity?
In Luke 18:9-14, what does the Pharisee's prayer reveal about the connection between pride and insecurity? What does the tax collector's prayer teach us?
Explore Your Story
Think about the "old-timers" phrase: "ego-maniacs with an inferiority complex." Which of these do you lean toward more naturally—pride or insecurity? Give specific examples.
What are the "time, talents, and treasures" you tend to stack on your side of the seesaw to prove your worth? What happens when these things are threatened or removed?
Reflect on a time when insecurity paralyzed you from taking action. Then recall a time when pride blinded you to your need for help or correction. What patterns do you notice?
In what ways might shame be at the root of pride or insecurity in your life?
Encounter the Savior
What does the gospel say about both your worth and your need?
How does knowing that Christ died for you address both your deepest insecurities and your greatest pride?
Experience Shalom
Practice "taking the right medicine." This week, when you notice pride rising, meditate on your need for grace (Ephesians 2:8-9). When insecurity strikes, dwell on your identity as God's beloved (1 John 3:1-2).
Pride and insecurity are both rooted in shame. Shame always requires another set of eyes. This week, when you feel pride or insecurity rise, practice looking for Jesus’ face in the crowd. How does seeing him see you change your perspective in those moments?